Arcana
by intheclosetcontest
Summary: Sulpicia and Didyme have lived together for centuries, both as wives to powerful men and as best friends. Drawn to Didyme's happiness and beauty, Sulpicia longs for a deeper relationship with the woman who also happens to be her mate's sibling...
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**** Arcana  
Pairing: Sulpicia/Didyme  
Word Count: 4,350  
Rating: M  
Summary: Sulpicia and Didyme have lived together for centuries,  
both as wives to powerful men and as best friends.  
Drawn to Didyme's happiness and beauty, Sulpicia longs for a deeper relationship  
with the woman who also happens to be her mate's sibling.  
What are the consequences of such love and desire?**

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"**ARCANA"**

_Latin. Feminine._  
_1. hidden, secret, private_  
_2. intimate, personal, confidential_

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**01. BLINDING LIGHT**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
She is light—so pure, that sometimes I feel I must shade my eyes from her brightness. Wherever her leather-sandaled feet venture, shadows flee, and laughter reigns. Her heart, still though it may be beneath her breast, sees only goodness, for _she_ is only goodness in this den of vampire thieves and hungry lion men.

My husband Aro knows of my feelings. How can he not, when his every touch unveils to him to him my history, my every thought? There are no secrets between my mate and me. He does not hide his anger over my inexplicable desire for his sister, though he is also aware that my infatuation is beyond my control; it is perhaps _this_ fact that annoys him most. I imagine that his gift often confronts him with love and lust for his much happier sibling.

In the close confines of Velathri, where we live and rule together, I try to ignore Didyme for the sake of my bond with Aro. _She is Marcus' wife_, I tell myself. _She is kind and good to _everyone_. Her laughter and smiles to you mean _nothing_._

But in the depths of my heart, they mean everything. I greedily watch and wait for them, and each time she smiles at me, something inside my spirit grows. I know it to be love, as much as lust. Didyme has taught me that one can fervently love multiple souls at the same time.

When my husband touches me, whether with the tender hands of a man or the clenching fingers of a vampire ruler, I am in love with him, my eyes only for him. And yet, as soon as his fingers release me, it is Didyme I see—her long black hair, which she plaits into braids; the sky blue dresses she wears; the way her hips move as she dances with her husband beneath a harvest moon.

Sometimes I convince myself that she returns my feelings, that I see her staring at me from across the room while her hand is enfolded in Marcus'. Even if this is the case, what might come of it? Though vampire mating is eternal and unbreakable, it is not unusual for our kind to have other meaningful relationships. Would this be something she might desire? Would Marcus allow it? Would Aro?

For now, I desire from a distance, craving her light like a wildflower reaches for the sun.

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_Cali, the name I've used for Sulpicia/Aro's surname, is an Italian family name of Greek origins. It comes from a Greek word meaning "beautiful," and one site suggests that "the first bearer was a man of exceptional beauty." He must have been a vampire, of course._


	2. Chapter 2

**02. TOUCH**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
Didyme and I sit on a large boulder in the sunlight, enjoying one of the rare opportunities we have to come out during the day. Though it is unnecessary, we are being guarded by Felix today. Well, _I_ am being guarded by Felix. Aro does not allow me to go out without a member of the guard at my heels.

Caius' wife, Athenodora, is with us, but she sits off to the side a little, as if somehow aware that her presence intrudes upon my deepest desires to be alone with our other sister. What privacy might afford us, I cannot say, but I long for it just the same. I _always_ long to be alone with Didyme.

"What are you thinking, dear sister?" Didyme asks me in her siren's soprano voice. Her pale, long fingers thread through my hair, stirring a nervous but delightful feeling in me.

_Crisscross, crisscross, crisscross…_ I will have a braid soon, one that looks like hers—only blonde, not black—one that connects us until we remove the ties that hold the braids in place. I am tempted to keep my hair this way forever, if only she will keep hers braided as well.

I smile and close my eyes. Tilting my head back, I feel the warmth of the sun on my hard and cold skin. "I am thinking that eternity is not nearly long enough for moments such as these."

The braiding comes to a stop, and I feel, rather than hear, Didyme move closer. She leans into me, her small breasts pressing against my back. It is a different embrace from the ones we have shared countless times before. It is warmer somehow, more intimate. "Is it the sunlight that thrills you so?" Her voice is a whisper.

My eyes are wide open now. Though I have no need to breathe, I feel as though I am suffocating in anticipation. I desire countless things in this moment: her touch, her kiss, her declarations. "It is not the sun, no," I reply. I swallow thickly. "It is the company." _Your company—always your company._

I am not looking at her face, but I know the moment her lips quirk into that brilliant smile of hers. "Did you hear that, Athenodora?" she calls out. "We make for wonderful company."

Eyes closed to the sun, Athenodora grins impishly from where she lies a pace away from us. "Was there ever any question?"

We chuckle to each other, and the afternoon continues blissfully, with Didyme's body pressed closely to mine. My unfinished braid is flattened between us, forgotten in favor of touch.


	3. Chapter 3

**03. RIVALRY**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
"You can be with _anyone_," Aro says in a quiet hiss as he paces at the foot of our bed. We are both still naked, having been in each other's arms only moments ago. He is displeased by how easily my thoughts drifted to his sister after our lovemaking. "Why _her_? Why must you _always_ want her? Why must _everyone_ always want her?"

I sob dryly into my hands, frustrated by my obsession, depressed by my husband's growing dismay. "I do not know, _coniunx_."

My mate growls at this, his jealousy rearing its head. "You shall not do this to me. It is the one partnership you may not entertain."

"I know," I whisper.

"Besides," he remarks in a casual tone that I have come to be wary of, "my sister is devoted to _her_ husband."

His words are worse than a venomous bite to my neck, but I am not sure why. Am I bothered that he should insinuate I am uncommitted, when I know of—and am unbothered by—his ventures with other women in these halls? Or am I more bothered by the idea that Didyme may never have room for affection beyond that which she gives Marcus?

As Aro moves about like a caged lion, glorious in his power and natural form, I am still in love with Didyme. We both know that nothing he says will change this.

Aro knows my mind, my heart. How can he not understand that I am able to love them both, simultaneously?

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_The word "coniunx" is Latin for "married partner" or "husband" or "wife."_


	4. Chapter 4

**04. CONFESSIONS**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
The years pass, turn into decades, and then centuries. We witness the rise and fall of societies, participating in some, ignoring most. Eternity is longer than any of us were able to imagine. Velathri becomes Volterrae becomes Volterra, and our coven takes on the name Volturi, growing until Marcus is more frequently required in the great hall with Aro and Caius. The latter two thrive in this new, more powerful environment; Marcus broods without his wife. His angst is understandable; I cannot fathom living without Didyme.

Of the three of us wives, Athenodora is given the most freedom, and she spends the time apart from her husband in the marketplaces and sometimes with travel to far-off lands. She returns with handcrafted potteries, colorful—if flawed—human paintings, and so many books that soon we will need to add another library to the fortress.

Didyme and I love to hear her stories. The world is so vastly different since we were last a part of it. Sometimes I am thankful for eternity, that I should be so lucky to see the world change, even if it is vicarious eyesight I view it with.

I do not mind that I cannot join in on these travels. Our husbands' trials and Athenodora's absence leave Didyme and me together—and alone—more than ever before.

We are never far from each other during these times. If we are not casually embracing, we are holding hands. It is easy and beautiful, more an act of touching another part of my own body than it is touching another. I know her, for I know myself. Our similarities are part of what draws me to her; we understand each other, not only as the wives of powerful rulers, but as vampires, as childless and ageless women.

Aro is my other half, the piece of my existence that I cannot survive without. Didyme, though, is an extension of myself, a part that I might be able to survive without, but which undoubtedly makes me a better creature with its existence. I am in love with both of them, but for very different reasons. It is painful to not act on this love. The pain grows exponentially with each decade that passes.

An unspoken sentiment lies heavy and thick in my mouth.

_I love you._

A tension is wedged between us.

_I want you._

We sit now by one of the large outdoor fountains, our feet dangling over the stone edge, resting in the water. The scent of lilies is in the air, and afternoon sun falls upon us. I am entranced by Didyme's flawless skin; the way the light refracts from her body onto mine in what my imagination suggests is an almost intimate pattern. Since their completion in the last century, the outdoor gardens and fountains—fenced off from the human eye—have become our favorite places to sit. We rarely speak, our stories having already been told a hundred times over. For us, it is always enough to simply _be_.

Didyme holds my hand and traces the lines of my venom-filled veins. "Sulpicia?"

"Yes, sister?"

She does not look at me as she speaks. "I feel you should know that Marcus and I have decided to leave Volterra. We have considered this for a while now, as you probably know. Marcus will ask for Aro's blessing today. It is a formality, of course." She rolls her eyes. "It is not as if my brother has not seen our desire to leave for quite some time now." She chuckles.

I try to mask my pain. I knew this was coming, since she mentioned a year ago that she and Marcus were making plans about where they would go next; Londinium is a contender. Aro's sudden relief and the way he has begun to complain less about the time I spend with his sister has told me for a while now that they would leave soon. For some foolish reason, I think he believes that once Didyme is gone, I will move on and forget her. But how might one forget the sun? It is impossible.

I trap Didyme's fingers with my own. "I am happy for you, sister." _And I am envious._ Freedom from these walls, this place, will never come for me. I have never wanted it until now, until the idea of Didyme leaving me behind. I conjure up images of the four of us—Marcus, Didyme, Aro and I—freely existing as nomads. It is a fool's dream, as Aro will never let go of his precious Volturi coven; his greed and pride will never allow it. I will be here with him until another coven overtakes us, or until the world crumbles to dust. "When do you depart?" I ask.

"Soon," Didyme whispers. I hear the excitement in her voice. "The next full moon, at the latest."

"I see."

She untangles her hand from mine for a moment, leaving our only point of contact to our shoulders, where we are leaning against one another. She heaves a deep and unnecessary breath into her lungs and says, "You and I are bonded, you know, in our own strange way."

I stiffen beside her, uncomfortably exposed.

"It is all right," she continues. "I have always known, and _certainly_ Marcus knows." She smiles. "In fact, he was the one to assure me that my feelings were not one-sided. He does not mind, Sulpicia…he knows this is not the same bond I share with him, nor a competing one. He _wants_ us to see this through before we leave. He says we will regret not doing so. He…gives his blessing." Reaching up, she brushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Her touch is soft, like a gentle spring breeze. "You cannot possibly know how long I have wanted to act on my desires." She laughs softly. "Well, perhaps you _do_know. We have been dancing around each other for so long."

Over the centuries, I have often thought about a moment such as this, where Didyme might declare similar affections to my own, but now that the moment has come, I realize that what one wants and what one may have are two very different things. "I cannot pursue this," I say. "Aro will not allow it. He is jealous of you—how people follow you out of love, rather than fear…" I frown at my lap. "He sees my…affection for you to be a betrayal."

Didyme sighs, and her hand leaves the side of my face. "I know you love my brother, but Aro has always been jealous and paranoid, even when we were human, and so he will forever be." She shrugs. "Embrace it as a part of who he is, but do not give into it." She leans closer, her body turning into mine just slightly. "Give into this, instead. He will not know until later, and by then it will be too late for him to change anything." Her mouth nears the shell of my ear, and she whispers, "Give into me, sister. Let us love one another, even if for just this one time in all eternity."


	5. Chapter 5

**05. A PARTING KISS**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
A strangled whimper passes my lips, and I am suddenly frantic in my need. I have waited so long for this!

I turn to Didyme and capture her face between my hands. I want to do this slowly, but we have skirted around one another for centuries, and I cannot hold myself back. Neither can she, apparently, for we meet together with an audible crash, our lips pressing firmly and impatiently into one another's.

I slip my tongue into her mouth as her fingers pull my hair from its clasp. She tastes sweeter than blood to me, and I am frenzied as I lick and suck and push and pull. As I back away, I smile at her, and her replying smile sends me soaring. "I love you," I say without hesitation. Suddenly, out of so many moments in eternity, I am living in just this one.

Didyme's red eyes shine. "And I you."

We stand in the fountain and move closer to its softly raining flow. I tear her blue dress from her body, letting it fall and float in the water, and I marvel at the skin beneath it, even though I see it almost daily in the baths.

She has small, perky breasts that slope slightly outwards, and a long torso which is only interrupted by a shallow bellybutton that tells of a more human time. Midnight black hair curls between her legs, hiding a secret that my body and mind want and _need_ to know. Aro turned her during her fifteenth year, and though her form might have changed further, given time, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the only one I have ever wanted, the only one I shall ever want. "You are perfect," I tell her, and I hear the reverence in my voice. My infatuation, my lust, my love should be embarrassing, perhaps, but it is not. It is only frightfully wonderful.

"Let me see you," she says, and unlike my hands, hers are calm and gentle. She takes her time, slowly pulling down one shoulder strap and then another; it is the single most pleasurable and torturous feeling I have experienced. My breathing is erratic as I stare into her eyes. I feel as though I am looking into her soul, and it is so painfully beautiful, so perfect, that I wish I could cry, if only to show her how deeply I care. Somehow, Didyme understands this, for she understands me. Her hands leave my dress straps sagging loosely around my biceps, coming up instead to cradle my face. "Shh, shh, shh. I understand,_mellita_."

She leans into me and peppers loving kisses to each corner of my mouth before running her tongue along my bottom lip. "You taste like the North Sea," she says against my mouth, and her voice is as reverent as my own.

Her hands push my dress down until it hangs low on my hips. Our eyes are locked and heated, burning crimson lava. My fingers clutch at her breasts, and I feel her tiny, rosy peaks respond to my touch. She mimics my actions, taking a moment every now and again to almost roughly pinch one nipple. It is a delicious pain over which I moan in desperate, wanton approval. Wetness and heat gathers between my legs in dual excitement and nervousness. I have never been with a woman. The opportunity has presented itself numerous times over the centuries, but it has never felt right before now; it never felt right, because it was not Didyme.

I smell my own arousal, and it is joined by hers. The scent emboldens me further, and I slide one hand from the small curve of her breast, to trail it down her stomach, where I curl it around her hip and then slip between her legs. My fingers glide through the hair that marks her womanhood, and I travel lower, lower, lower still until I am met with sweet, wet venom.

"Yes," she hisses, her eyes suddenly black with want.

_She wants me._

Pushing her backward gently, I lead her to rest her back against the base of a stone statue in the fountain. My body takes the brunt of the fountain's spray from this angle, but it is perfect, for now no water washes away her fragrance. I delight in the sweetness that is _her_.

We kiss as my fingers explore—sliding, pressing, entering, curving, thrusting. I hungrily swallow Didyme's sounds and press my body into hers; the only separation between us now is my arm, which is deliciously trapped between our bodies. "I wish you would never go," I tell her as my thumb circles a place I know will bring her pleasure.

She moans and lets her forehead fall to my shoulder. Her black hair is heavy and wet and sticks to my skin. "I wish Aro were not so power hungry," she whispers between whimpers. Her hips move back and forth, twist and undulate.

I curl my tongue around hers, kissing her deeply until I gently pull away. "Let me taste you," I beg.

She nods. "Yes," she says breathlessly, "but first remove your dress."

Standing back slightly, I slowly push my soaked dress down to the ground. Like Didyme's tattered clothes, I allow it to float away, too preoccupied with the perfect woman before me. She watches me with hungry black cat eyes.

"Taste me," she says, one slender leg parting from the other, her hands bracing against the sculpture she leans upon.

I drop to my knees and lift her up until her thighs are resting on my shoulders. Her back arches, and I see her up close beneath the light of the sun, which is now fading in the west; she glows only faintly, but she is beautiful, pink and wet. For me, for us, for this singular moment together.

Eagerly, I bury my face against her, my tongue immediately searching for her heated opening. Her venom tastes a little different here—stronger, headier—and I am drunk as I press my fingers against the knot of nerves inches above my mouth and lap at all she will give me.

She gives and gives. I take and take.

Didyme's fingers tangle in my hair, and she bucks her hips in time with my strokes. She is loud—louder than I ever imagined she might be—and I wonder if we have gained an audience and how long we might have before we are caught and Aro separates us. It is a fleeting thought, as I suddenly feel Didyme tense against me.

Her thighs push in toward my head, covering my ears somewhat, blocking out the rushing sound of the fountain and her loud moans. The world is muffled by a heady blissfulness. I feel butterfly thrumming around my tongue and smile against her.

She utters no word as she pulls my head away from her heat and slips off of my shoulders. She pulls me to my feet quickly and latches her mouth onto mine. We groan against each other and whisper our love. Her hands are roaming, grabbing, and my mind is all but gone in the pleasure, in the feeling of relief that comes with finally giving in to the most wonderful woman I shall ever meet, a woman whose mere presence gives me such hope and happiness that I hardly know how to contain my joy.

Didyme mimics my earlier actions, leading me where she wants me. When we reach the containing wall of the fountain, she stretches out along its lip, lying flat along the stone edge, one foot down in the water on one side, the second out on dry flat stone on the other side. "Come here," she commands gently.

Holding my hands, she has me stand over her and the lip of the fountain. It is an oddly pleasurable sensation—the water splashing along my left side, the cool, dry breeze flowing and drying at my right. I lean down and kiss her—her mouth, her jaw, her neck and shoulders, and then down to her breasts. I flick my tongue along her nipples, first left, then right. She sighs in approval but quickly pushes me away from her chest. "It is your turn," she says, her eyes alight.

Pulling at my hips, she directs me until I am standing just above her face. I look down at her nervously, acutely aware of how well she can see me from this angle, how the afternoon light is still bright enough that I am clearly on display. Not even Aro has seen me up this close; he has never been willing.

"You are perfect," she murmurs, and my dead heart swells in happiness. Her fingers brush over my curls. She laughs softly. "Blonde everywhere."

I am so far gone with desire that the next moments are a blur of touches and kisses that even my advanced mind cannot keep up with. And then, just when I believe I cannot feel any _higher_, Didyme pulls my hips downward as her tongue pushes up.

I am lost in a sea of feeling, a sea where desire and love congregate.

With a cry, I lean over her, bracing my hands on the stones of the fountain lip above her head. "I have never felt this way," I whimper as her tongue flattens and licks outside, only to return and press in. My legs quiver.

She continues this elaborate and intimate dance until my hips are jerking and the familiar, tight heaviness in my lower stomach becomes nearly painful.

I fall into the sensation against her mouth, my whole body shaking in primal triumph.

"Please stay," I cry as she rocks me beneath the gentle waters of the fountain.

But I know she will leave.

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_The word "mellita" is Latin for "honey" or "sweet."_


	6. Chapter 6

**06. SCIENTIA POTENTIA EST**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
Days pass.

Marcus and Didyme receive Aro's approval to leave.

Didyme and I spend less time together as she and Marcus prepare, but I catch her staring, as she catches me, and I am secure in our love and the small moment of time we had together. My only regret is that we cannot be together again.

I refuse Aro's touch, as I sense darkness about him. I know when my husband is scheming. Being his mate, it has never frightened me before, but now…now I hold a secret…now I cannot be so sure. I hesitate, ignore his advances, fearful of what his reaction might be when he discovers what he will see as my betrayal and disobedience.

It is more than Aro's scheming that keeps me away, however. It is Didyme herself, the memory of her in the fountain. I do not wish to share my memories of her with him, the way she had pleasured me, the thoughts I had had in the moment I climaxed against her mouth. It is not just the issue of her being the sibling he is jealous of. It is a selfish thing. For once, I wish something could be mine—and mine alone.

My husband looks at me from across the room. His eyes are hard and black.

I know that he knows.

Word travels very quickly in our little world, on tiny butterfly lips belonging to a girl named Jane.

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_The chapter title is a Latin maxim: "for also knowledge itself is power." This is more commonly known in its modern form as "knowledge is power."_


	7. Chapter 7

**07. ENDLESS SHADOWS**

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**SULPICIA CALI**  
Another day passes.

I make way to Didyme's art room to ask her to come to the baths with me. I cannot lie. It is my intention to hold and kiss her one last time, if she will let me. She and Marcus are leaving in the darkness of night, which is only hours away. Now is the only time left for us, for Marcus is away in the city, tying up loose ends, and Aro is occupied in the great hall, playing with his latest newborn acquisition, a vampire named Demetri.

I open the door, but I do not find Didyme's glowing happiness before her colorful paintings. Instead, I find devastation in the form of splattered paint and broken brushes.

There is no happiness in this room, only a ghostly silence and the wispy scent of incense.

I am the one who finds her ashes.


End file.
